


Bleeding Tides | BatFam Pirate AU

by TheBlueMatrix



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28778991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlueMatrix/pseuds/TheBlueMatrix
Summary: Danielle Woods, deceiving her gender and sex, gets a job as a doctor in a pirate crew, committing herself to piracy. Aboard the ship called the "Dark Knight," one of the crew members reveals her sexual identity to the captain, but Captain Bruce Wayne already knew when he hired her. The Dark Knight soon finds itself attacked that night by the enemy pirate ship known as the "Regime" captained by an old friend of Wayne's. After surviving her first battle, Dani later falls in love with a crew mate known as Tim Drake, the boatswain, but she must go through challenges through her relationship that could possibly change her life.(It was complicated to summarize this story.)
Relationships: Jason Todd/Orignal Female Character, Tim Drake/Orignal Female Character





	Bleeding Tides | BatFam Pirate AU

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: A lot of dialogue (I can't help myself), strong language (censored), and use of alcohol!
> 
> NOTICE: This story is unfinished! I am open to ideas and suggestions to finish it--Preferably with a battle against Anne Bonny and Mary Read. Everything (factually) is historically correct.
> 
> This story's practically based around the Regime, Batman v Superman, but PIRATES!!! I had trouble creating the characters for this story, I was forced alter to their beliefs and combat styles--So now they don't mind killing, using guns, and drinking alcohol like rum because they're anti-hero pirates.  
> You will find some fun references and quotes from the Pirates of the Caribbean series, and other things that aren't related to pirates at all.

Mother always told me to never engage with pirates, let alone fall in love with one. Mother always told me they were raiders, murderers, and rapists with sadistic and wicked humor and characteristics--That they were inhuman. The barbarians of the seven seas. That they were obsessed with the sea and alcohol, and they would always cheat to get their way. Mother always told me their teeth were rotten and they reeked of death, and especially unattractive. Michael liked to pretend he was sword fighting a pirate with him always winning in the end. That was until they took him.  
In the tavern, I met a charming sailor looking for a doctor for his crew. This man, Bruce Wayne, claimed to be the captain of the Dark Knight--The ship with a crew that have survived battles against even the most wanted pirates in the Caribbean. I couldn’t resist but to take the job. I had nothing else to live for anyway, and my town was nothing but dead memories.  
As I boarded the Dark Knight, I felt a pair of eyes staring at me. The deck didn’t have many people on it, but judging by their attire, they were pirates.  
“So,” said a soft and charming masculine voice. “You must be our new doctor the captain hired.”  
I shifted my body around and there stood a young man around my age arms crossed. He was pale with a hint of pink in his skin, and his hair was short and black with bangs separating in the middle that reached to his cheekbones. His face structure was beautiful, flawless and complemented by his blue eyes like the ocean. He wore a white loose shirt with lace along the arms and chest, and it was open at the chest until it met his brown suede vest. He had baggy black trousers and black leather boots that were folded over. Two black leather belts strapped around his waist on top of the vest storing a dagger on the left and rapier sword on the right, I could see pistol frames sticking out from each side behind him.  
His arms dropped as he strolled closer. “I know exactly what you are,” He murmured to me. “And you can’t hide it.”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lowered my voice and tried to sound fearless.  
“You’re pretending to be something you’re not,” Then he called the captain over.  
Captain Wayne and his Quartermaster walked to our position. The quartermaster was tan with short black hair and blue eyes, his bangs flowed to the right underneath his weathered black leather tricorn. He had a white ruffle shirt on with a black vest over it and topped with a black leather harness strapped around his shoulder and three pistols sitting across his body, it was all covered by his long black waistcoat. He looked more military than pirate with his white loose trousers and black leather boots with brass chains on them.  
The pirate that spoke to me removed my brown leather tricorn and my curly red hair fell from being tucked under the hat and rested at my waist. “We have another woman on board.”  
“I know,” replied the captain as he turned away.  
“You knew?”  
“Yes. I don’t believe in luck and misfortune, Tim. You know that,” Captain Wayne and the quartermaster left to the navigation room to discuss courses.  
“So much for ‘it’s bad luck to have women aboard a ship.’” I snatched my hat back and placed it on my head. “Thanks to you, now the whole crew on this bloody ship knows!”  
“Did you not hear me?” Asked the attractive pirate.  
“Hear what?”  
“I said you’re not the only woman in this crew.”  
“That’s odd. Women committed to piracy are rare,” I walked over to the starboard side and leaned against the rails on the edge, staring out into the town I possibly may not see again and he followed me. “Why are you nice to me now?” I asked. “One moment, you’re suspicious about me, and the next, you act like we’re friends.”  
“Because you’re one of us now. Keeping good communication will keep us alive longer.”  
“You’re the first pirate that didn’t want to kill me.”  
“Why do you say that?”  
“I have bad history with pirates. One crew particularly.”  
“Then why join us?”  
“Because I have nothing else to live for. I hoped this would wash it all away.”  
“‘Bad history with pirates,’” He repeated, thinking, “Well, you came to the right place,” then he left.  
The ship had already set sail before nightfall, the crew brought out the bottles of rum and began drinking and having fun and playing music. I leaned against the rails next to Tim, away from the chaos. My eyes were caught to a crew member. He had short black hair with a white streak in the front and a scar of a “J” on his cheek. He wore a black leather vest with no shirt under, and his bagging maroon trousers were tucked under black leather boots with buckles on the top, and he had six pistols strapped on his waist and legs. “Who’s he?” I asked, pointing. “The one with the scar of a ‘J’ dancing with the girl with short blonde hair?”  
Tim took the bottle of rum from my hand, “Jason Todd,” then drank out of it. “Master gunner. Not the best to be around, and you do not want to piss him off. The Joker carved that scar on his face with a knife when he attacked us.”  
“And her?”  
“Charlotte Rogers--Goes by Charlie. First mate, and his lover. She was ranked so high for her long term military experience in the British Navy. She was a captain until she joined us after we captured her ship.”  
I asked more questions about the crew members and Tim answered the quartermaster was Dick Grayson, one of the first to join Bruce, and one of the best fighters on the ship. Barbara Gordon, Kate Kane, Selina Kyle, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Harper Row, Harley Quinn, Jackson Baker and many more were all other crew members of the ship. I was expecting less girls, but the amount surprised me.  
After the rum party, everybody passed out. Dick spotted a ship closing in on us with canons out. “We have company!” He shouted across the deck. But nobody heard him in their sleep, so he walked down the staircase, pulled out a pistol and shot the sky, scaring everyone awake. “Battle stations! Now!”  
Jason rushed below deck with a group to get the canons ready and tossed weapons up.  
Charlie commanded for the deck cannons to be loaded, then barged into the captain’s quarters. “Captain! We’re under attack!”  
“You know the protocol,” Said Bruce, marching outside.  
“Yes, sir.”  
I pulled my pistol from the holster on my hips and cocked it.  
“Everybody hold fast! This will be a bumpy ride!” Dick warned as he stared at the unavoidable storm ahead from the wheel.  
Tim turned his head to the dark clouds. “Just what we need… I hope you can fight.” He spoke to me, raising his voice.  
“Yeah… Me too,” I answered in uncertainty.  
“Here’s some advice--Don’t die,” He then made his way to the port side.  
“That’s bad advice!” I called out to him.  
“I know!”  
The enemy ship aligned with ours. Cannons boomed and guns blazed. Shards of wood flew everywhere on both ships, one shard impaled a pirate from the enemy ship. Pirates swung onto our deck and roared. I was able to shoot one off the ropes and he fell into the waters between the ships. A couple pirates surrounded Dick at the wheel swinging their swords at him. He dodged and gripped his cutlass and jabbed one of them in the gut with the pommel then slashed him across the chest. With the back of his head, Dick headbutted the other pirate as a distraction and stabbed him while he was still behind him. He looted the pirate for any loaded pistols and took them. The slashed pirate was still alive and attempted to attack, but Dick caught him just in time and threw him over and shot him to keep him dead.  
Tim had trouble with one pirate in particular. He blocked a strike with his sword, but he wasn’t fast enough to block another blow. The pirate’s blade slit his cheek and made him throw himself around on impact. Surprised by the clean cut, Tim felt the blood slither down his cheek and his jaw and neck. He drew his pistol and aimed without turning around to look and pulled the trigger; the pirate fell on the wood planks with blood oozing from a hole in his throat.  
Jason climbed up from the gallery with orders left to the gunners at the cannons--Don’t stop firing until he gets back. By the time he got to the deck, everybody was getting soaked in the storm’s rain. He shot a nearby pirate, and impaled another in the back. He found Charlie battling multiple enemies at once near the navigation room. He stabbed one in the neck with a knife and threw the body at another. “Hold this for me,” He stabbed the remaining pirate in the chest and left the blade in his body. He heard a pirate roar at him from behind and felt the stomping steps on the wood planks, so he ducked and made him trip over him and into the pirate with his knife, then shot him in the head. “Thanks,” Jason ripped his knife out from the pirate’s chest and threw it at the one that was after me.  
I pulled my pistol on a pirate that was dangerously close, but it malfunctioned and didn’t fire. He chuckled at me and swung his sword. I had my cutlass up to block, before our blades collided, one was already poking out from his solar plexus coated in his own blood. When it yanked out, he dropped and revealed who saved me. Tim stood there soaking wet and hair dripping water with his rapier in hand, he sheathed it in his black leather sword frog and pulled his dripping bangs back. “Are you alright?” He asked.  
“Yes,” I breathed and held my stinging bloody arm.  
He eyed it for a second. “It’ll wash out.”  
I stared at the blood trickling down his neck from his cheek. “Tim, your cheek…”  
“It’s just a cut--I’m fine.”  
Our crew cleared the deck of walking enemy pirates. Like the cowards they were, they raised the white flag in surrender.  
“Leave now, or you’re next,” Bruce hissed at their captain.  
The captain growled. “This isn’t over.”  
“It very much is.”  
“Bloody swine,” The captain marched to a rope and swung to his ship.  
Jason stomped below deck to tell his gunners the battle was won and they cheered.  
Tim sat on a barrel and cleaned the blood from his sword and dagger. The rain was already calming down when I approached him with a wet rag and a bottle of rum. He shifted his eyes up to me from his blade and they drew to the rum, he reached over for it.  
I pulled it away. “No. <3”  
“You brought a bottle to drink and you’re not letting me have any?” He complained.  
“It's not to drink.”  
“That’s exactly why we have it! To drink it!”  
“You are overexaggerating. Now do you want my help on that cut or not?”  
“It’s just a cut.”  
“That will get infected if you don’t let me treat it. You do not want it to get worse.”  
Tim agreed to let me help him.  
“If it makes you happy, you can have the bottle when I’m done with it.”  
His face lit up. I cupped his jaw and rubbed the blood off his face with the rag and on his cut, then had him lean back and tilt his head up so then the rum would fall on the floor and not on him when I poured it on his cut. His face lightly flinched to the sting of the alcohol. I took a drink then pushed the bottle to his chest, he took it and drank the rest. When I left him, Tim went down to the kitchen for another bottle, then came back up to the deck with a blanket and found me at the bow watching the horizon of blue and orange, and behind the ship was the storm we passed through. He put the blanket over my shoulders from behind me and stood beside me and began to watch. He offered the rum to me, I took it, had a drink, and gave it back. “Aren’t you cold?” I asked.  
“Nah,” He said softly. “You get used to it after a couple of years.”  
Then we were quiet.  
“You mentioned before your relationship with pirates,” He recalled.  
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” I offered stubbornly.  
“Deal.”  
“A year ago,” I began. “Pirates raided my town. They murdered my father and took my little brother to become a monster like them and left my mother and I alone because we were ‘helpless women.’ My town was in flames, leaving people dead, and many more injured.”  
“Then why did you join us when they destroyed your home?”  
I hesitated. “I thought by joining you, I could get revenge. Since my mother died, I lost all hope and faith in myself. I have nothing else to live for.”  
“You live to avenge your family. But how do you know we are not the ones who killed your family? I could have done it and you haven’t noticed.”  
“No. I remember their faces very clearly--And I don’t see those faces on this ship. If it was you, you’d be dead where you stand. And I would hate to waste a pretty face such as yours. This crew is more attractive than they were, and they didn’t have women in theirs.”  
“I saw you fight out there. You’re skilled and you can handle yourself. I just have one question. Do you know how to use a gun? I can tell you were having trouble with it.”  
I admitted that I did not and that I taught myself.  
“May I see it?”  
I pulled the malfunctioning pistol from its holster and handed it to him.  
He set the rum down and took a closer look at my pistol, admiring the model. He found nothing wrong with the design, then examined the pan under the frizzen. “Ah. I see your problem. The gunpowder is wet. That rain really screwed you over,” He passed it back to me. “Give it time to dry.”  
Tim taught me how to use my pistols properly and how they work, then taught me how to aim accurately. Guess I was just lucky with that one pirate trying to swing onto our deck. He stood behind me helping me aim, then mindlessly ran his hands down the sides of my body. When he realized what he was doing, he removed them immediately. “I’m sorry,” He apologized, then left to assist the crew.  
I watched him leave and thought about his actions--Helping me understand pistols and how to aim, his gentle hands following the curves of my body. It made me wonder if I was naive around him.  
Tim and I became closer. We began to stand at the bow every night when everyone was asleep and talked as we gazed at the moonlight glimmer in the ripples with just a lantern by our side.  
“You know,” I began softly. “My mother used to say ‘don’t fall in love with a pirate’ and here I am talking to you.”  
“What are you saying?” Tim whispered.  
“Those words are as dead as her grave. Now… It’s a pirate’s life for me. But she never wanted this life for me…”  
“Then why did you take it?”  
“Because I thought it was the better solution to just get drunk all day and forget my past. I would rather die in battle than live a long life with the burden of my family’s death.”  
He remained silent, remembering his own painful past.  
“How’s your cheek?” I touched my fingers below the healing scar.  
“Fine—Fine.”  
“Does it bother you?”  
“Not at all…”  
I drew closer to him. Close enough that his breath crawled across my skin. His lips grazed mine and puckered together, pecking my lips. I pressed my mouth to his and slowly kissed him. His hands crept on my hips, holding me, and mine crept on his chest.  
When our faces departed, he grinned. “What was that about not falling in love with a pirate?”  
I huffed a giggle and continued to kiss him more.  
“I think I like you better with the scar, I don’t know why,” I murmured. “It just gives your appearance more personality.”  
Tim moved his hand and planted his palm on my neck with his thumb to my cheekbone. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against his hand. I held it softly and pecked his palm. His thumb lightly stroked my cheek.  
“I do have something to live for after all,” I mumbled. I opened my eyes and gazed at him. “Tim… I love you…”  
“You,” He breathed. His mouth curled into a nervous smile, stumbling over his words. His mouth opened, about to speak, but no words could escape his tongue--And every time he tried to speak, he paused and there were no noises. Instead of forcing himself to reply, he kissed me. He gazed at me again and flicked his head away from the bow, I nodded to his nonverbal suggestion. He let go of me and took my tricorn and the lantern from the rail and I followed him to the foremast. He sat down on the deck and leaned against the mast with the lantern and hat next to him. He gently pulled my wrist down for me to join him. I sat closely next to him, my head rested on his shoulder and my hand curled in his chest. Tim blew out the flame from the candle wick in the lantern, he then wrapped an arm around me and placed my tricorn over his eyes to block out morning sun when it comes.  
I sang softly, drowned in love. “Yo ho, yo ho. A pirate’s life for me…”  
Tim grinned.  
I’m sorry, Mother… I didn’t listen. But not all pirates are what you set them out to be. This one is kind, cunning, intelligent, and resourceful--And his charm is irresistible. I agree that pirates are barbaric monsters, but not him. Not this crew. He--They are different. It’s almost like they strive for justice and not selfish needs.  
The next morning, we could feel and hear steps across the deck boards. Tim removed the tricorn from his head and was blinded for a moment by the bright morning sunlight. He tapped my cheek to wake me up, and so I did. A woman stood before us. Her hair was a light blonde and as short as Jason’s, and her bangs split to the right, but it was hard to tell with the wind blowing it in her face. Her eyes were grey and her skin was light--She had a large scar that stretched from her nose bridge down to the right side of her neck, and a green bandana around her forehead. She had a white collar shirt with a brown vest similar to Tim’s blanketing over it and a musket strapped around her back. Her breeches were tan and her boots were worn out brown leather. Two pistols were strapped around her legs and ready to fire like always. “Well, well,” Charlie crossed her arms, staring down at us. “I knew this would happen in a matter of time.”  
“What do you need, Charlie?” Tim rubbed an eye and planted his feet on the floor and stood.  
“I need the boatswain to do his bloody job.”  
“Of course you do. I’ll get right on it,” He left below deck to check supply scarcity.  
Charlie opened her mouth, and before she could speak, we heard someone’s faint shout from below the floorboards. “OH F*CK!!” Then there was stomping across the floors and up the stairs and up another flight of stairs, Tim dashed across the deck and up another flight of stairs to the quarterdeck. “We’re fresh out of rum! We drank it all!”  
“Calm down, Tim,” Dick spoke optimistically. “I’ll alter our course to get more. Go check if we need anything else.”  
Tim calmly came down to the main deck, breathing heavier than before.  
“Why are you stressed out about rum?” I asked.  
“Because rum is the closest we can get to water and the ocean’s water is disgusting!” Tim answered with passion.  
“You may like rum a little too much.”  
He went back down to the storage that was two stories down and continued to check the rest of the supplies. Time passed by and Tim came back up and spoke to Dick at the wheel saying that it was only food, drinks, and ammunition we needed.  
Dick parked the ship at the port in Jamaica for us to gather supplies. All Tim was worried about was the rum. After restalking, we were put back on course. As we sailed, we sang sea shanties to pass the time and had fun with our jobs when we sang Drunken Sailor. Since Tim’s job had nothing to do with the sails, ropes, or cleaning the deck, but to keep an eye on the crew from slacking off and on the supplies--He sat on a barrel playing the mandolin and watched us work as he strummed. Suddenly, we got hit.  
“The bloody hell was that?!” Shouted a rough feminine voice.  
The crew looked out the side that suffered the impact. A large ship sat across the body of water and shot another cannonball that blew another hole in our ship. When the ships sailed close and aligned, the battle had begun. Because I was the healer of the crew, I stayed on our deck while some of the others swung onto the other. The enemy captain landed on our ship and shot a couple of our pirates. He stomped into the navigation room where the captain was. “Like I said. This isn’t over, Bruce.”  
Bruce heard a click, knowing a gun was pointed at him. “Don’t do this, Clark. I defeated you in battle before, I can do it again.”  
“I think I really do.”  
Bruce stood there, still had his back to Captain Clark Kent. He quickly turned around and pushed the pistol away and a shot went into the ceiling, then headbutted him. Clark stumbled backwards and dropped his pistol, then drew his sword and slashed at him. Bruce ducked under the blade and kicked his knee. Clark kneeled, and in anger, whipped around and roared at Bruce swinging his sword. With his cutlass, Bruce blocked every rage-filled attack. The captains fenced outside the room and onto the main deck.  
Harley slid between the legs of a pirate and smiled as she shot him under the chin. “How do you like that, potato sack?” She then grabbed a piece of wood and smacked a pirate off his feet, and continuously bashed his face in until she broke the wood and giggled about it. Harley found a rope and jumped on it, swinging across the deck and kicking faces and knocking them over; she even grabbed one by the shirt and threw him overboard. She jumped off the rope, landed on the back of a pirate and rolled off--She teased him, making him rage, and without him knowing, she tied a rope around his ankles and pushed him off the deck, letting him drag against the razor-sharp barnacles beneath the ship. When she hauled him back up, his clothes and skin were torn away and he was covered in blood and deep wounds and his organs dangled, trying to spill on the deck planks. She pushed him off again, then cut the rope when she knew he was dead.  
On the enemy ship, Tim fought a pirate called Victor Stone who had his eye mangled and scarred in a nasty explosion. Victor sliced his sword horizontally at him, Tim bent back, dodging the blade, and kicked him upside the chin as he performed a back handspring. He grabbed a pirate in a black hooded waistcoat and threw him into Victor. Multiple pirates dogpiled on Tim to assure him no escape. He struggled to lift himself up, but their weight was too heavy for him to lift off.  
“Captain!” Called a woman with black, straight long hair and a red bandana wrapped around her forehead. She had a lasso attached to her waist.  
“Well, Bruce,” Said Clark, “This was fun--But now I must take my leave. I have what we came for,” then walked away from the fight.  
The enemy pirates suddenly stopped fighting and left to their ship.  
“You’re not getting away that easily!” Bruce marched to Clark.  
The woman pulled a gun on him and he stopped.  
“Yes, Bruce,” Clark replied, stopping in front of a plank to his ship, “I think I am,” then walked across.  
Every one of our pirates on their ship was killed off.  
After the departing of our ships, I searched the Dark Knight. “Where’s Tim?”  
There was silence. Then Jason spoke. “He’s gone, Woods.”  
“No… He has to be somewhere around here.”  
“He’s not on this bloody ship! Those pirates have no mercy for us!”  
Filled with denial, anger, and sadness, my hand slapped him dead across the face. I whipped around and stomped to the rails, then lost myself to my emotions, crying in my arms. Barbara approached from behind and rubbed my back in sympathy.  
“What do we have here?” Asked Clark, approaching his crew.  
The pirate in the black hooded waistcoat pulled someone up and held him by the shoulder.  
“Tim Drake, isn’t it? Last we met, you were nothing but a mere boy trying to make a life in piracy because you had no family.”  
“Watch it!” Tim growled, struggling to attack, but was held back.  
“Is this new?” Clark lined the blade of his sword across Tim’s scar, “Whoever did this should have aimed for the neck,” then lifted his chin with the tip of the blade.  
Tim glared at him, still keeping quiet.  
“I could kill you right now,” Clark moved his sword to the bottom of his neck, blade hardly breaching his skin.  
“Then what are you waiting for?” Tim hissed.  
Lightly, Clark slid his sword across Tim’s skin on his neck, drawing blood. “Oh, no… I have better plans for you. Cooperate, and no harm will be done. Don’t, and you suffer ten whips bear back. Sabotage our equipment, and you get the cat o’ nine tails bear back before I kill you myself.”  
Unphased by the threats, Tim had just one question. “What happens if I complete your tasks?”  
“Then we might let you go. But that all depends on your behavior.”  
“So I’m just your labor dog,” Tim paused for a moment and thought of the consequences, then of me. He considered every beneficial path he could take, then made up his mind. “What am I to do?”  
The captain smiled. “I’m afraid that’ll have to wait till morning. Put him in the brig!” He turned away and climbed steps to the quarterdeck and took the wheel.  
The hooded pirate yanked Tim away and below deck. He shoved him in a cell and slammed the door, locking it. Tim stood at the door, his hands on the bars. “Why are you doing this, Damian? You were one of us.”  
“My father was weak and unfit to be captain.”  
“But he’s your father. He loved you.”  
“And I hate him! The captain’s been a better father than he could ever be. Since you marooned me on that stupid island, I became better, stronger. I’ve been training every day to kill him, you, and his stupid bloody crew.”  
“Good luck with that. You’ll never get to him.”  
“If I were captain, I would beat the information about my father’s course out of you, then kill you and hunt him down and slaughter everybody aboard his ship.”  
“Now that won’t happen, will it?”  
Damian slammed the bars, making Tim jump, then left.  
I heard wheezing. A man with a face coated in blood attempted to lift himself off the floor.  
“Oh! Look who’s still alive!” Harley spoke in a cheery tone with a smile. “I thought I smashed his face in, but I guess not!”  
Charlie walked up to him and looked down. “Danielle! Get over here!”  
I strolled away from the rail and wiped the tears from my eyes and cheeks with my sleeve and approached Charlie.  
“Clean him up, and when you’re finished, throw him in the brig. Take Harley with you in case he intervenes.”  
I helped the injured pirate up and brought him below deck to the medicine chest and stripped him of his weapons. After cleaning the blood from his face, I found splinters poking out, several missing teeth, and a broken nose. Harley shoved bottles of rum down his throat to get him drunk while I worked. I removed the splinters and did my best on the nose, but there was not much I could do about it. After my operation attempt, Harley and I threw him in a cell in the brig just as Charlie commanded. When we left him locked inside, he began speaking nonsense, then something that caught my attention. “I wonder how the cap’n’ll punish that boy…”  
I stopped and turned to him. “What boy?”  
“Drake, of course!”  
“He had everyone killed on that ship.”  
“Not ‘im. Cap’n needs him the most.”  
“C’mon,” Harley became impatient. “You’re not gonna believe that wasted hunk of dead meat, are ya?”  
I stood in front of the bars. “Where is Clark Kent headed?”  
“None of your bloody business, you bloody hag.”  
I clutched his shirt and slammed his head against the bars and let him drop--I didn’t care if I reversed my operation. Harley and I left him to his drunken insanity and reported back on the main deck. I told Charlie we had to go after Tim.  
“No,” Charlie rejected. “He’s as good as dead with them. He might already be in Davy Jones’s Locker. I will not let you meddle with our course for a dead man!”  
“You’re the one who’s dead if you don’t believe me,” I stomped to the bow and forced my tears away. I was conflicted to believe if my love was truly dead, or if he was still alive. Either way, I was willing to chance it.  
The next morning, I talked to the captain about Tim, but he said that we were not turning back, then mentioned Captain Clark was acting strangely and that he might consider. “Might” was not good enough. I needed confirmation. I then requested the prisoner was to be punished until he spits out answers about Clark’s plans. That’s when Bruce gave me permission. One whip for each loss we suffered during that battle on his naked back, including for Tim. I decided to divide the punishment into thirds since we lost over thirty members, that way I could enjoy my revenge longer, giving him twelve whips a day. If he does not answer by the third day, I’ll flog him with the cat o’ nine tails. Punishment starts now. I marched downstairs into the brig where the prisoner was held. He sat there motionless in his cell in a hangover. I unlocked and opened the bar door, then took him and brought him upstairs and tied his arms around the mainmast. Dick questioned my actions until I said it was Captain’s orders by request. I used my knife to rip open his shirt, then stepped back and pulled my deep brown bullwhip from my belt and the thong and fall dropped to the floor. Thanks to his hangover, I got to make his bad day even worse and more miserable. I cracked the whip at his back, cutting through his skin and drawing blood. Just by that one whipcrack, I already began to feel a little better about Tim’s absence, but I will never get over him. After the next eleven whips, I asked where Captain Clark Kent went and what he was planning to do to Tim.  
“Go to hell,” The pirate growled, refusing to spill the answer.  
I slammed his head into the mast and demandingly asked again.  
He chuckled.  
I slammed his head into the mast harder. I then untied him and threw him back in his dirty cell.  
I did the same thing the next day; snap twelve cracks onto his back, try to get answers, slam his head, throw him back in the cell for not answering, but I was more emotional. When he didn’t answer, I dropped on my knees and burst into tears. By day three, the sun had already set as I cracked six whips, then asked in pure anger and hate, but he still refused to answer. Three excruciatingly painful days without Tim and he still wouldn’t tell me where he was. From the chest in the navigation room, I took the cat o’ nine tails and returned in rage. For the last six, he deserved the claws in the back. When I raised the whip, full of tears, someone caught my wrist before I threw it and spoke. “He’s had enough.”  
That voice was familiar. The hand let go when I turned around to find Tim standing there somehow perfectly okay. I immediately embraced him and buried my face in his shoulder.  
“Not so tight!” He groaned.  
Confused and concerned, I removed my arms from his back and gazed at him as he gazed back. I held his neck in my palms and pulled him into a sea of kisses. When our faces slowly pulled away, he glanced at the prisoner, naked back bleeding from a couple dozen slashes and tied to the mast. “What is this?” He calmly asked me.  
His question triggered my emotions. Tears ran down my cheeks and I buried my face in his shoulder again. “I hate him! I hate him so much! He wouldn’t tell me what happened to you or why they took you--I thought you were dead…!”  
Tim stroked my head as I cried and stared at the prisoner.  
“Your woman,” Huffed the pirate hugging the mast. “Is a wicked son of a b*tch!”  
I reached for a pistol from Tim’s holster and pulled it on the pirate. There was a pop and he was dead, but it wasn’t me. Tim took my pistol and placed the shot without hesitating before I could. I stared up at him, and he stared back and shoved my pistol back into its holster.  
“How did you escape?” I murmured.  
“Would you believe me if I told you they let me go?” Tim replied.  
“No.”  
“Good, because that’s exactly what didn’t happen. Clark threatened me every morning if I didn’t picklock a stolen chest they couldn’t open. Last night when they were asleep, I pick locked my cell and got out, and before I left, I took what was in the chest and left their own grenades active for the captain and his crew. When I rowed away, I watched their ship burn and sink to the bottom of the ocean,” Tim then cupped my jaw in his palms and kissed my forehead.  
I continued to stare at him, impressed that he took down an entire pirate crew with their ship alone. “You cunning monkey!”  
He grinned with a light chuckle and kissed me.  
“How have you been since they captured you?”  
“Could be better. My body stings.”  
I took him downstairs to the medicine chest to find out why. Tim removed his dagger from under his belts and set it aside on the table, then the belts containing his sword and pistols. He pulled off the vest and shirt and dropped them on the floor. It was the first time I ever saw him shirtless and I stared at the muscle in awe and my eyes drooled. But his chiseled details were ruined by slashing cuts across the front and back of his torso. With the rum again, I poured it over the cuts to clean them out, then wiped them dry. I noticed and lined my fingers on the thin scratch on the side of his neck. Tim held my waist and drew me closer until I was against his body and closed in on my neck. I lifted my jaw and closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around his. His lips grazed my skin and pecked. The pecks transformed into warm kisses, and I was in bliss.  
“I love you,” Tim whispered and continued to kiss my neck.  
Our blissful moment was interrupted by boots walking on the wood planks in the distance followed up by a demanding voice. “The prisoner’s dead, what happened?”  
“Tim,” I murmured with fear in my voice.  
“Don’t worry,” Tim whispered.  
The voice spoke again. “Switching partners, Danielle?”  
Tim peeled his eyes up to Dick and lifted his head.  
“T-Tim!” Dick stuttered, eyes wide. “We thought you were dead!”  
“I heard.”  
“What happened to the prisoner?”  
“I didn’t know the captain’s orders when I returned, so I shot him. You didn’t need him anyway.”  
“Yes, Tim. We did.”  
“No. Everything you need to know is up here,” Tim tapped his noggin. “I stole their plans before escaping.”  
“And where are they now?”  
“Sunken in ruin. Drowned.”  
“You… One man… Sunk an entire ship… And the whole crew went down with it?”  
“That’s right.”  
“How?”  
“Storytime later,” Then Tim looked at me again. “Guess we’re not in trouble.”  
“No,” Dick agreed, “You speak with the captain first thing tomorrow morning,” then walked away to his quarters.  
Tim watched the quartermaster leave. He brought his attention back to me, and kissed me more.  
I walked into the crisp morning air and Tim came down from the quarterdeck after talking with Bruce. He walked up behind me, his chest against my back and loving arms trapped my body, and he kissed my jaw.  
“What is the plan today?” I asked softly and in love.  
“Today will be a big one,” Tim answered.  
“Like these past days haven't been already.”  
“Today we purge and plunder a small town in Cuba.”  
“What?” I turned out of his arms and looked at him in shock and disbelief. “I won’t take the lives of civilians!”  
“If you would just let me explain.”  
“What is there to explain?”  
“This town is not your typical town,” He spoke over me. “Captain’s orders are to rid it of slavery and abuse, especially abuse amongst children. We raid, their cruelty is finished—End of story. And if you believe I have misspoken, well I didn’t.”  
Tim has never snapped at me like that before, I could see a glare in his eyes. When he turned around, I grabbed his hand to stop him, “Tim, I’m sorry. I misunderstood,” but he walked away, unwilling to talk to me after my overreaction.  
Last night, we were lovers, and now we haven’t spoken in hours. I found him leaning against the mainmast with his arms folded and watching the crew do their work.  
I stood in front of him. “Tim, we need to talk.”  
“What’s there to talk about?” Tim’s tone was gloomy. His arms dropped and he began to move around me.  
I grabbed him and pushed him back on the mast. “Us! I know I misunderstood and spoke out of turn, but that shouldn’t affect our relationship and keep you from talking to me. What’s gotten into you?”  
He glared at me before answering. “I had a bad morning, alright?” He tried leaving again, but I kept him where he was and he sighed. “I hoped you could make it better, but you didn’t.”  
“How can I make it up to you? Please tell me, I want to help you.”  
His eyes remained locked on mine. He held my hand from his chest and brought it to his mouth, kissing my palm as he gave in to love. Then he spoke. “You don’t need to. Admitting your mistakes was enough. Now go. I can see the island.”  
I turned around and there it was in the distance. I took a step, Tim grabbed me and pulled my back into his chest, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and waist. “I lied, you’re not going anywhere,” He kissed my neck like last night.  
“Still can’t resist romance I see, eh loverboy?” I grinned.  
“You know me…”  
“Load the cannons!” Dick commanded.  
Everyone rushed to follow orders, stuffing cannonballs in the cannons on the deck.  
“Does the code have anything to say about this?” I asked.  
“Nothing,” Answered Tim. “We don’t follow half the code anyway. Captain’s ship, Captain’s rules--Which consists of half the code.”  
“You two!” A feminine voice called to us.  
We turned our heads to the voice that belonged to Barbara.  
“Get to work.”  
Tim let go of me and moved out, then downstairs to grab muskets. When he came back up with his arms full, he passed me one.  
Dick spoke again. “They will most likely put up a fight! You get hurt, hurt them back! You get killed, walk it off! No quarter will be given to the navy or slavers--No hostages or captives will be kept! All freed children and slaves will be brought back here as passengers to Port Royal!”  
The ship drew closer to the port, and we fired the first cannon at the fortress. The navy returned fire, engaging in battle. Once the ship got close enough, the anchor was lowered to keep it in place. With there still being cannonfire, the captain and some of the crew stayed behind while the rest of us attacked on foot. Soldiers charged and fired at us as we invaded. Jason rammed his shoulder into a soldier’s legs and made him trip over him, then twisted his body around and shot him. Harley took a soldier’s rifle and hit him across the face with it, and shot him in the spine. Charlie threw knives at multiple opponents, then took them back from their corpses when she ran by. Tim told me to follow him, so I did. He stopped at the door of a cottage and wanted me to cover him when he pick locked the door to get inside. He had me stand guard for any incoming soldiers, then opened the door and cautiously stepped inside. The house was cold and dark, and the air was filled with shaky breathing. He turned his head and found a black woman sitting on the floor at the far wall staring at him in fear, her wrists and ankles were bound in shackles. He inched closer, and she clenched tighter as he did. She scooted back until she was against the wall. Tim slowly kneeled down to her. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I’m trying to help you,” He murmured softly, tring to ease her. He eyed marks, scars, and bruises on her limbs. “I’m freeing you from your masters. They won’t hurt you anymore.”  
Before Tim could unlock her shackles, a man tackled him on the floor. “Bloody pirate!”  
“Abusive bastard!” Tim insulted back.  
Struggling, Tim pulled out his pistol. The slaver grabbed Tim’s armed hand and pointed the gun at his head, hoping he could make him shoot himself. Tim took his pistol by the barrel and smacked the pommel against the slaver’s face, and he fell away from him on impact. After Tim got back on his feet, the slaver bodied slammed him into the wall, and the pistol dropped from his hand. Tim rolled his head with the punch he was given, and the next one. He grabbed the slaver by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down into a knee strike to the sternum, and slammed him at the wall--He struck the groin with the other knee, and headbutted him, then threw him on the floor. Tim knelt over the slaver and had his hand press his shoulder against the wood. Yanking out his dagger, Tim said one last thing, “‘Bloody pirate’ is a compliment,” then slit the slaver’s throat.  
“Father?” Called a high voice.  
Tim froze to the sound of a child’s voice. Regarding that he just killed the child’s father, he put the bloody dagger away and stood beside the body. He slowly turned around, and in front of him was a scared young boy pointing a pistol at him. Tim patted his holster and scanned the floor for his gun, but couldn’t find it. He looked back up knowing the boy had it and held his hands out and took a step closer.  
“Stay away from me!” The boy warned him.  
“Boy… Put the gun down,” Tim tried to negotiate.  
“No! You killed him!”  
Tim thought of ways to get out of the quirral he was thrown into. He searched the boy for any signs of physical abuse, finding old bruises, nail scratches on his neck, and cut marks on his hands and wrists. “They hurt you… Didn't they…? Your parents…? What have they done to you…?”  
“They… beat me with the punishing stick if I didn’t do my chores… and didn’t feed me till they were done… They locked me outside all night for misbehavior…”  
Tim inched closer and listened to the boy as he vented about his abuse as he whimpered. He got close enough to gently guide the pistol in the boy’s hands away and take it to put it back in its holster. “It must be difficult. I promise you that won’t happen anymore,” He drew his attention to the woman in shackles. He walked over and knelt to her to free her from her chains. “Take the boy with you and go to the ship. You’ll be safe there.”  
The woman nodded and thanked him. Tim followed them out the door and looked at me, brows curled up.  
Jason busted himself through the door of a cottage, killing the masters of the household. He turned his head to the slave, striking fear in him. He shot the shackle chains that cuffed his ankles, then made him hold his hands out for him to slice the chains cuffing his wrists. Jason instructed him to the ship, and so he left. Before Jason exited, he took a bite of the cooked turkey leg from the supper table.  
After freeing all the slaves and abused children, Tim and I began to take our leave. A cannonball trembled the ground, launching us off our feet and we took a rough fall on the dirt. A navy lieutenant shot Tim in the thigh. I turned my head behind me and saw him lying there in pain. I threw my dagger at the lieutenant, and the blade pierced through his shoulder and he dropped the rifle. I took Tim’s sword from his belt, drew mine, and charged at him. He ripped the dagger from his body and before he could react, I crossed the blades through his neck and watched his headless body drop. I slid Tim’s sword in my belt and jogged back to him and tugged on his arm to get him to stand. “Tim, we have to go!”  
“No,” Tim rejected. “You have to go. Leave me behind.”  
“No! I can’t!”  
“Danielle. I can’t walk. Whoever falls behind… is left behind.”  
“And that man is not you! Timothy, you have to get up!”  
“The code--”  
“The code, the code! Who cares about the code? I’m dragging your ass back whether the code likes it or not!” I squatted down, pulled his arm around my shoulders and put my hand around his back and lifted him up. With his good leg, Tim helped me help him stand. With my assistance, he limped to the ship before it left. On the deck, I removed the bullet from his thigh and wrapped the wound in long, thin fabric. I stood to almost reach his height--I was smaller than him by a little. “That was close,” I murmured to him.  
Tim held my neck, his thumbs sitting on the corners of my jaw, and touched his forehead to mine in silence. After a moment, he whispered to me. “You are the most optimistic pirate I’ve ever met.”  
I smiled.  
During our expedition of transporting a portion of a town of passengers to Jamaica, I stood at the rails on the port side staring out into the vast blue ocean. I listened to the waves crash into the ship and quietly sang a little sea shanty to myself. “Cloaked in folds of midnight waters side by side, we sons and daughters. We set sail for no king’s orders, but we sail together.”  
Tim approached from behind, stroking my back, and sang the next line.  
I stood closer and leaned my head to his. “How’s your leg?”  
“Healing. But it still hurts.”  
I sighed in pleasure.  
“I have something for you.”  
“It’s not rum, is it?” I wasn’t surprised if it was.  
Tim giggled. “No,” He handed me something wrapped in a piece of cloth.  
I opened it and a dagger lay on the cloth. Its silver blade and guard shone in the sun and the brown leather grip was firm in my hand. “It’s beautiful! Where did you get this?”  
“I found it in the storage covered in dust. I thought you’d want it since you left your other one in that lieutenant.”  
Mentioning the lieutenant reminded me I still had Tim’s sword, so I pulled it from my belt and handed it back to him. “I forgot I still had it. I noticed you hadn’t polished it in a while so I did it for you.”  
“It certainly needed it, love. Thanks,” Tim slid his rapier back in its sword frog.  
The journey to Jamaica took several days, but we were able to transport our passengers to Port Royal surprisingly without trouble. I know it’s bad luck to be saying things like that, but the journey was fairly, unusually smooth. The freed slaves parted their separate ways in the town with the children they served and watched over. It brought a smile to my face when I heard them thank us for changing their lives. It may have been frightening in the beginning--Not knowing why we attacked their town, but it was worth the while in the end. After all were offboard, we left the dock and sailed out of the port. 

To be continued…


End file.
